


Pick Me Up

by silkarc



Series: Silk's Short Stories [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Short One Shot, catradora
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29028456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkarc/pseuds/silkarc
Summary: [Catradora]Catra meets a beautiful blonde at her regular haunt
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: Silk's Short Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129580
Comments: 13
Kudos: 172





	Pick Me Up

“So, do you come here often?” 

It’s a cheesy line, yet Catra can’t help but smile. She turns to face the source of the terrible pickup line - a tall, beautiful blonde with eyes so blue she can’t help but become mesmerised. 

“Sorry. That was pretty bad, wasn’t it?” the blonde scratches at the tightly tied-up hair behind her neck, and then has the audacity to blush, much to Catra’s disdain. “I’ll… er. I’ll stop bothering you. Sorry.”

Only then does Catra realise she hasn’t responded. She reaches a hand out and lightly grasps the other woman’s wrist, without even meaning to. “Wait,” she says, wondering why her heart is hammering in her chest. The blonde slowly turns around, and Catra feels once again compelled by that crystal clear, dark-blue ocean of a gaze. “Yes. I do,” she says simply. “I’m here most nights. You can sit if you like. I was just ordering another round.”

“Can I get it?” The blue-eyed girl smiles and her whole face lights up, and Catra almost forgets how to breathe. 

“Sure. Vodka and coke,” says Catra, and then upon realising her heart is still racing, “make it a double. If that’s okay.”

“Sure. I’m Adora by the way,” she says, reaching a hand out. Catra takes it and notices straight away that despite her hands being soft, there are obvious rough calluses at the base of each finger.

“Catra.”

“Well, Catra… you’re a woman of few words, I see,” Adora says, sliding over a full glass.

Catra takes it and sips at it, suddenly feeling very thirsty. She watches Adora tap a credit card against the contactless card reader while thanking the bartender with the sweetest of smiles. Then, when she turns to face Catra and the flashing lights of the nearby dancefloor strike against her outfit _just so_ , Catra almost chokes on her drink. Adora is wearing the most exquisite, figure-hugging dress that Catra has ever seen. The silky material is highlighted beneath myriads of flickering colours, and Adora’s curvaceous figure practically cries out for Catra to lean over and touch it, just to see if it’s real.

“Like what you see?” Adora asks, scrunching up her nose with a cheeky grin.

Catra merely nods. She knows she’ll find her voice eventually, but she simply isn’t used to being approached like this, certainly not by anyone this beautiful, and this… _nice_. Adora is nice. That’s what’s really making Catra feel out of place, and causing her to struggle. The types of women she picks up are usually rowdy, a good laugh, rough around the edges, desperate to just scratch an itch and have a night where they don’t feel alone. Catra would know, since she’s one of them.

But with this girl, Adora… it only takes half an hour of listening to her filling in the silence, talking about herself, for Catra to realise that this one is different. This one would be hard to spend just one night with. This one would leave Catra craving more, so much more, and the thought of it is almost enough to make Catra run away screaming.

But instead, she listens. It turns out that Adora is a brain surgeon, and it only takes one quick google for Catra to find out Adora is being incredibly humble when she says she’s ‘pretty good at it’. Adora is all over the news, most recently for saving some kid from an impossible, not-so-terminal brain tumour. And she did it for free, too, since the kid’s parents didn’t have insurance.

“Now you’ll end up with a queue of people wanting free handouts.” The words leave Catra’s mouth without her meaning them to, and it’s the first time she sees that beautiful face frown. It makes Catra want to crawl into a hole and die.

“The system is broken - why should only rich people get help? I’ll cure whoever I can, and as many people as I can,” Adora says, shrugging it off. “Sure. I can’t help everyone, but it’s better than helping no one. Turns out cheap brain surgery is hard to come by!”

And just like that, she’s smiling again, and Catra can’t help but be drawn in, both figuratively and literally. She’s scooting closer to Adora word by word, drink by drink, until she’s caressing those pretty hands in her own, and wondering why they are so calloused if all she does is hold a scalpel all day.

“I work out too,” Adora says, grinning - and it’s only then that Catra realises she’s spoken the question out loud. Adora lifts one arm and flexes, popping out a single, clearly defined bicep. _She’s all curves and muscle_ Catra thinks, her lips turning dry. She wonders how anyone can be this perfect.

It only takes a few more drinks for Catra to loosen up, and before long she’s the one filling in the silence and telling Adora everything about herself, from her fucked up childhood to her more recent issues with finding a steady job. Before long she’s told this girl more than she’d tell most people in a lifetime, although she manages to keep her biggest secret buried deeply, just like she’s been trained.

Adora slowly crosses one leg over the other, and Catra can’t help but notice the flash of skin as Adora’s creamy thigh comes into view through the slit along one side of the dress. She knows she’ll regret it in the morning, but she asks anyway.

“So… Do you want to come over to my place for coffee?”

“Hmm…” Adora drums her fingers on the smooth polished wood at the bar. “Or we could go to mine? I have a jacuzzi.”

Catra nods mutely, and before she’s even had time to fully register what’s happening Adora is already leading her out of the bar and through the pouring rain, the two of them giggling all the way. 

There’s no queue at the taxi stand and they both find a cab together right away, albeit already drenched from spending less than a minute outside.

“Nice weather,” Catra mumbles, reaching her fingers to Adora’s outstretched hand.

“Don’t worry,” Adora winks. “The jacuzzi is indoors.”

“Sounds like you have a mansion or something.”

“Or something,” Adora grins.

Catra sits back against the spongy leather seat, and rests her hand in Adora’s. She feels both thrilled and terrified to be just going along with this, whatever _this_ is, but for some reason she also feels strangely at ease, like maybe Adora’s the kind of comfort she’s been missing her whole life without even realising it.

And when she gets there, and spends what must be the best night of her life with Adora, Catra realises she’s already in deep.

\--

The next morning Catra tunes out those fearful, terrified voices telling her to flee before she gets hurt, or worse, Adora gets hurt. Instead, she places her hands on Adora’s cheeks and kisses her.

“That was honestly… amazing. All of it.”

“All of it?” Adora asks, showing that same smug smile that Catra first came across last night, after the first of many, many rather climatic experiences.

Catra grunts in faux-disdain. “Yes. All of it.”

“I had a lovely night too,” Adora says. Suddenly, her phone rings. “Ah, gotta take this. Sorry.”

Catra watches her lean over to the other side of the bed and take the call, and it doesn’t take long for her to realise it’s an important one; an emergency of some kind.

“Shit. I’ve gotta go,” Adora sighs, sitting up and pulling the duvet cover from herself. “I was going to make you breakfast but… you could just help yourself? To anything you want. Seriously.”

Catra snorts a single laugh. “You’re leaving a stranger in your house?”

“Sorry, it’s just I have to hurry and-”

“Hah, it’s fine, Adora,” Catra drawls. It’s strange, but she somehow feels like she’s known this woman for centuries, after just one night - albeit a breathtaking one. “I’ll be good. Might even have some more of those pancakes.”

“You can warm some up and have ice cream with them!” Adora grins. Five minutes later she’s finished washing herself in the on-suite and has already gotten dressed in a white shirt and black, ass-hugging trousers. 

Catra should be terrified to be left alone in a strange house, but for some reason she isn’t. Maybe it’s the comfort of the bed which has probably the softest, nicest mattress she ever slept on. Maybe it’s the sight of Adora bunching her hair back up into a tight ponytail. Maybe it’s the smell all over the pillows and mattress of Adora, and the obvious musk from the long night they spent together.

“So… if this wasn’t just a one night thing,” Adora begins, chewing her lip. “I was hoping we could meet up again? Or you can even stay here today and I’ll see you after work?” She reaches into her bedside drawer and pulls out one of her business cards, then hands it to Catra. “It’s up to you. I’d love to see you again,” she says, leaning over and pecking Catra on the forehead, “but… yeah. I won’t be upset if you don’t want to. I mean, I will be, because you’re amazing, and hot, and… oh crap, I’ve gotta go.”

Catra chuckles. “You’re an idiot. Go on already, go save someone’s life… I’ll… I’ll see you later.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! Get in touch:
> 
> [tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/silks-stuff) |[twitter](https://twitter.com/silktw)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Join our [she ra discord!](https://discord.gg/duZPh7N) It's very gay! (Grownups only, please)


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